Invincibility's Price
by Snowstorm xD
Summary: Everything has a price, and so does invincibility. But the question is: how will the price be paid? There are many things to pay with that are worth much more than money, and invincibility is a great thing indeed. / AU. Clue Hunt never happened, set in a boarding school. /
1. Prologue: The Price to Sacrifice

INVINCIBILITY'S PRICE

**PROLOGUE: THE PRICE TO SACRIFICE**

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How much would you pay for invincibility? Millions? Billions? How much would you pay to be the most powerful person in the world, to be able to take over and rule it? How much would you give, _sacrifice_, for the sheer promise of power?

But of course, not everyone has so much money to spare, and not everyone has the means to earn it. But would you try? Would you starve yourself to save, work after hours everyday? Ignore that nagging voice for you to eat, to rest? Not give in to temptation at all? Become a workaholic? Become _obsessed_? For the world knows that there are people who have taken that path and turned a blind eye to the stupidity of the plan.

But what if it wasn't money you had to sacrifice?

Lives. Secrets. Love. Family. Friends. Trust.

Would you kill people in your way, end the lives of innocent people, to reach your goal? Would you betray your family, your friends, and the trust between you? Would you betray the person you love, or reveal secrets sworn to be never revealed to turn the people you love against each other?

How far would you go?

How far would you go to reach invincibility?

How many secrets?

How many betrayals?

How many broken vows?

How many _lives_?

Would you risk it all?

That's the question to ask yourself before you go seeking for invincibility. People don't see the dark side to the power; they see only the things they could achieve with the power. Their greed stops them from thinking. Their hunger stops them from seeing.

Would you risk it all? Invincibility demands a very high price, and you might be in too deep before you consider what you're losing, what you're doing... And by then, you'll have nothing left.

Would you risk it all?

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**WOULD YOU RISK IT ALL, DEAR READER? WOULD YOU? (****Sorry, I had to. Well I didn't really, but I had an irrational need to and that's pretty much the same thing. Yep.)**

**Did you like my title? IT RHYMED. Because I'm just cool like that.**

_**Is this what I think it is, Snow? Is it really a multi-chapter, doomed from the start? You know how your other multi-chapter fics went... You should know better than this.**_

**I know, I know. I'm a complete fail at every type of commitment. BUT. I am trying. Some of you may remember I had a fic up called 'Misguided Impressions', I also had one up before called 'The Headmistress'. This fic is both of them… combined. *dramatic stuff happening here***

**Yep. So yeah. Review and stuff. Please. I beg you. (Even though my AN made up like half the word count. I promise updates!)**

**~Snow**


	2. Chapter 1: Graceful Grave (Amy)

INVINCIBILITY'S PRICE

**CHAPTER I: GRACEFUL GRAVE **(AMY)

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It was a beautiful spring's day. The sun shined brightly, and you could hear the cheerful chirps of birds high up, enjoying the weather. The wind breezed through every once in a while, keeping the day just the right temperature – not too hot, not too cold.

Grace would've enjoyed today. Grace would've loved it. Grace would've smiled.

_Would've_.

Amy kept her grip tight on the book she was reading. _The Hobbit_. It was the last book Grace had given to her, but despite her love for books she just couldn't get her mind into it. She was stuck in her memories of Grace, remembering everything they'd ever done together and every story she'd told her.

But most of all, she couldn't get the image of Grace, on the hospital bed, out of her mind. Her usually twinkling eyes - deadened. Her normally bright smile - straightened to an expressionless line. Her skin - pale and cold. Bags under her eyes. Amy had never thought about how Grace would die, but if she ever did, she would've imagined her to leave with a bang. Not... fade away on a hospital bed.

Yet, that was what happened.

Maybe Grace had had enough adventure in her lifetime. Maybe she was tired out. Maybe.

With a heavy sigh, Amy turned away from the window and stared at her lap. The car was silent. No one was speaking, everyone was just... in shock. Because when you thought of Grace, you thought of adventure, you thought of fun, you thought of travelling around the world, and wisdom and knowledge and happiness and _liveliness_.

You didn't think of death.

But now, they all were.

It was like Amy's heart had come to terms with it, and it was _hurting_, but... Her mind was still trying to wrap around the concept.

Grace? Dead?

The thought should've crossed Amy's mind more often than it had. After all, Grace was an old woman, no matter how young she seemed. She was human, not the energised immortal Amy had come to see her as.

Dan shifted beside her and muttered, "I still don't get why I have to wear this stupid suit."

"It's a funeral, Dan," Amy reminded her little brother, although she wasn't all too pleased about the itchy black dress she was wearing either. "You can't just turn up in a ninja costume."

"Why not?" Dan grumbled. "I bet Grace wouldn't have minded."

Hope turned around from the shotgun seat, "It's not about what Grace would've wanted, honey..."

"Why?" Dan shot back. "It's _her_ funeral."

"And she left it to Mr. McIntyre to organise."

Arthur's sharp tone made Dan shift in his seat, and the car was silent once more.

Amy glanced at Dan, who was staring ahead, an unusually solemn expression on his face. His fingers tapped on his knee, as if he were itching to scratch at the material of his pants but thought better of it.

What was he thinking?

Amy couldn't tell. Even though Grace had always spent more time with her than Dan, she knew that the death must've hit Dan hard as well. That was evident in Dan's silence. His usual light-heartedness was gone, replaced by strained nonchalance. He wasn't the ninja-obsessed dweeb at the moment, and he didn't look it, either.

Amy's train of thought drifted back to Grace and she found her eyes absentmindedly tracing the buildings and people on the streets they drove past. But there was a feeling that held onto her which she was unable to shake off with ease. Somehow, Amy felt as if this car was on a road that would take her places she never wanted to go. Yet her choice would hold no matter in it.

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**HEY ALL I KNOW I SUCK IMMENSELY AT UPDATING AND THIS IS SUCH A SHORT CHAPTER I HATE MYSELF TOO BUT THIS CHAPTER WAS A COMPLETE PAIN TO WRESTLE THROUGH AND I'M NOT EVEN SATISFIED WITH IT NOW IF YOU SEE MISTAKES PLEASE INFORM ME****  
**

**I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT THE ORGANISATION OF FUNERALS SO SORRY IF I GOT ANY DETAILS WRONG AND IF THE CHARACTERS ARE OOC I HAVEN'T READ 39C IN AGES SORRY AND YES THIS CHAPTER WILL END HERE AND NO THERE WILL BE NO FUNERAL SCENE BECAUSE IDEK HOW TO WRITE THEM OOPS**

**IF YOU REVIEWED/IF YOU REVIEW I WOULD TOTALLY HUG YOU RIGHT NOW IF I WAS NEXT TO YOU. BUT I'M NOT**

**_...or am i_**


	3. Chapter 2: Rumour Has It (Isabel)

INVISIBILITY'S PRICE

**CHAPTER II: RUMOUR HAS IT** (ISABEL)

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First impressions are often thought to be very important in the deciding of one's personality. It is, indeed, a situation that will probably be remembered by both people. How they talked. How they acted. What they said... How they looked like.

Of course, it wasn't very wise to judge someone on their first impression. They could've been having a bad day when something tragic happened to them. They could've been having a _good _day when something _wonderful_ happened. You never knew. It would only be appropriate to judge someone when you had stuck around them long enough to know what they were really like.

Despite the denials, it is very likely that most people judge you first by looks. This is not to say that people judge you by your race, (although it could be so) but by your clothing, your expression, your beauty.

A fine example would be Isabel Kabra. She had no trouble in manipulating people's judgment by pasting a fake, sweet smile on her face at all times, and she didn't have to go to _any_ trouble at all to look beautiful, which she knew. Perhaps a bit too much. She was loved by the world: popular, pretty, powerful, _perfect_.

But those who knew the real Isabel Kabra – they recoiled at the ugliness inside of her.

This, Isabel knew, and frankly, did not care about. For it was the outside to her that, contrary to the quotes that stated otherwise, really, truly, mattered.

After all, if it wasn't, then how could she have gotten so far?

* * *

Isabel wrinkled her nose as she took a sip of the store bought coffee in front of her. It had been a long time since she'd bought coffee from a café. It was much more convenient and simply tasted better to get her coffee from her mansion's kitchens. But she was in the United States now, and that wasn't an option anymore. It didn't really matter, since it wasn't coffee she craved in the first place, merely a place to sit and think. Of course, she'd had to buy something as she couldn't have anyone think she was poor. That would've been unacceptable.

Despite that Isabel valued her opinion much higher than anyone else's, she was not so dumb as to completely ignore the public's description of her. Popularity and being well-liked were two extremely important things. That was why it was necessary to manipulate the public. She had them wrapped around her finger, thinking she was sweet, so they would support her in any matter. So that she was powerful and if she were to commit some sort of crime, people would back her up and refuse to believe she'd done it.

Which she wouldn't have, of course.

It had already been a week since Grace passed away, but Isabel was taking her own sweet time in the country. The will had been predictable— the academy to be looked after by Hope and Arthur, and then passed down to Amy and Dan. After all, it _was_ called The Cahill Academy for the Talented. Something that Isabel was very determined to change. Despite Hope and Arthur having been given the academy, they had asked Isabel to be in charge of it for a while so they could carry on with their normal lives.

They had asked Isabel to be in charge. _They_ had asked _Isabel_.

Isabel had never liked being the second in command, and she wasn't about to start liking it now.

The academy was extremely important, and something Isabel had to get a hold of. Being in charge of it gave you _very_ good pay, of which Isabel was only paid maybe a quarter, or even less while being employed under the Cahills. Of course, she didn't need more money, but a topping up never hurt.

And there had been rumours... Rumours of something much more precious than what money could ever buy, buried securely inside the walls of the academy. Tales told it was a formula of some kind. A formula that would make the most powerful serum that could make the drinker invincible. When Isabel had inquired the truth of these details, Grace had only answered that some things were best left alone.

This had only succeeded in fuelling Isabel's curiosity and hunger for power that the rumours promised. Ever since, she had been making sly excuses to visit the academy, and volunteering to help. Otherwise, she would've never been caught dead working underneath the Cahills... No, it wouldn't do at all, and Isabel could hardly stand it now.

Besides, while being a temporary Headmistress technically put her in charge, there would be no saying when Hope and Arthur would snatch the position back from her. Isabel would be forced to let go of it.

Tapping her manicured, blood red nails on the tabletop, Isabel concluded what her plan would be. She had no choice. Or rather, she did, but this was the most efficient choice, and there'd be no other way better to rid of all the evidence...

Rummaging in her Louis Vuitton purse —the newest edition, of course— her hands found her phone and she dialled a number dialled many times before.

"Hallo?" answered a man with a very thick accent.

"Bruce," Isabel said, businesslike.

"Mrs. Kabra," Bruce replied, recognizing her voice.

"Now we have exchanged pleasantries..."

"I am thinking you want business done?"

"Yes, indeed," Isabel replied, glancing around attentively to see if there was anyone out of place. Deciding not to take chances, she picked up her coffee cup and disposed of it in the nearest bin, walking outside.

"I need a house down, with the family in," Isabel ordered. "You know which method's best. As soon as you can plan it, but if you get it done in the next few days I'll pay you double. But I want all family in. All."

"Details sent to the usual?" Bruce inquired.

"Yes. You'll have them by the end of today. I'll make sure of it," Isabel promised, making a note to remember to do so.

"Very good. And pay?" The man asked greedily,

She pondered this, then decided with, "Ten thousand. Not doubled."

"Ah... We use money to pay for certain expenses, Mrs. Kabra. And the whole family in... We need more than normal," Bruce added.

"Fine. Fifteen not doubled."

Hearing the finality in her tone, Bruce answered, "Fine. Drop it off at the usual?"

"Yes. Do not disappoint me, Bruce."

"Not once ever, Mrs. Kabra. Do not think I will start now."

"Very well," Isabel answered. Then she hung up, feeling rather accomplished.

Using her phone again to call up a limo to drive her back, Isabel decided she would get a new one. After all, she'd already had this phone for more than a few months. It was getting old.

As she stepped into the back of the luxurious limo, thoughts of finding the formula of the rumours took over her mind, and she smiled deviously without realizing it. The limo driver saw it while glancing at the rear-view mirror, and gave a slight shudder. You couldn't blame him. The expression on the woman's face looked quite sinister, after all.

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**SO I'VE HAD THIS CHAPTER WRITTEN FOR AAAAAAAAGES MONTHS BY NOW BUT I COULDNT FIND IT BUT I FOUND IT EXCUSE ANY ERRORS LIKE I SAID IT WAS WRITTEN AGES AGO AND I NEEDED TO POST IT SOON SO I WOULDNT FORGET **

**HOPE YOU LIKED IT AND STUFF**

**BYE**


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